Hey guys! I'm back! :) :) It's been sooooo long that I don't even know if I should even start with apologies or just say I was too damn lazy to post the latest chapter of my story and thanks to many, many fans and reviews, I have decided to get off my lazy butt and post chapter 6! I know I promised you a long time ago that this chapter would be really long but after going through it last night, I basically deleted half the chapter because I remained unsatisfied with the ending result. Anyways, for all those fans that stayed true to loving this story, I immensely appreciate it and hope yah like! Ummm… so yah! Lemmee know if you want me to continue and reviews are always welcome!

Chapter 6

"Get up Clary! Get up!" Sebastian's voice rang like a thundering echo in her ears and Clary blinked through the blood just to get a clear image of his towering figure.

He stood in all black; his muscles straining out from his t-shirt and sweat protruding down his forehead while his eyes glanced over her. Black as the pit of night, he tilted his head; almost as if he was examining a test subject, and frowned at her as she spit at his feet. Glancing at the chains that tied her to the wall, he circled around her and sighed at her weakened attempt of a struggle.

The room he had put her in seemed to grow colder and colder each time she was roughly thrown in it. Outlined in the form of a cellar, with no windows or a sense of sunlight, stone walls penetrated the cold and lifeless damp floor that encompassed the room into darkness. Only the faint light of a few candles let Clary see the broad shape of her demented brother.

"How many times do we have to go over this until you wish to cooperate?" he sighed and swung the whip he carried across Clary's bare back while he watched her scream in agony as he brought it against her delicate skin.

She was exhausted. The past four days of continuous torture that he had put her through were enough to make Clary lose consciousness. Covered in blood and sweat, she slowly curled herself into another ball as she readied herself for the next crack of the whip.

Clary painfully realized he wasn't kidding when he'd said she would wish she was dead after he was through with her. The amount of revolting tools he used to make her give in to his demands was repulsing. The only hope she had left was the thought of Jace and the rest of the Institute storming in with their seraph blades and silencing Sebastian once and for all.

But it had been four days.

She knew they should've been there by now. And if it meant that the Shadowhunters in the Institute had given up on coming to rescue her, then something had gone terribly wrong.

"I SAID GET UP!" Sebastian laced the whip even harder than before and Clary shrieked at the excruciating pain it left on her back.

"Stop Jonathon! Stop! I'm begging you to stop!" Tears streamed down her face and by now Clary had given up on acting tough, for the pain remained like needles stabbing into her back and cutting into her flesh.

"Now why would I stop little sister if I can't get you to simply follow a single order?" his tone of anger and annoyance ricocheted throughout the room and she cringed as she watched him pull back the whip once more.

"Stop! Okay Jonathon! I'll get up! I'll get up!" Painfully trying to catch her footing, Clary limply pulled herself up onto her knees. Slowly, she tried to stand, but she immediately collapsed. In her weakened state, Sebastian laughed at the pathetic display she was making. It had only been her fourth day and she could barely make an effort to stand. How pitiful.

He sometimes wondered how she could possibly be related to him. How such a disgrace to what it meant to be a Shadowhunter could come from one of the most powerful of all time. Yes, Valentine was as idiotic as the rest of them, but his father had at least used his Shadowhunter capabilities for a respected purpose of ending the world and all of mankind. His mother on the other hand, was an even a bigger disappointment than his father, and he could only wish to watch her rot in the ground where she belonged.

As odd as it was though, no matter how disgusted he found himself with his sister, his attraction for her remained consistently strong. But he found her referring to his birth name extremely irritating and wished she have the sense to call him Sebastian. He longed to reclaim power over her, and the sooner he could break Clary meant the sooner she would learn to give into him.

"What a grand effort you've made to follow a simple instruction. I think this calls for a trip to the red room," he grinned as he watched her eyes widen with terror.

"No Jonathon, please not today. Not again," she begged uselessly as he quickly withdrew a seraph blade and marched over to her thin frame.

"Why sister darling, what's there to be so afraid of? After all, you've proven to handle it so well this far that it would be a shame if I stopped today now wouldn't it?" he smirked as she sobbed lifelessly on the floor with her ragged hair in her bra and blood-stained jeans.

Carelessly throwing her against his shoulder, he traced an iratze over her wrist so she wouldn't be able to black out again and walked her across the hall into the next room.

Clary silently sobbed knowing what was in store for her and the demon carrying her over his shoulder. It happened every night since the torture began. First, he would pick his favorite deadly instruments to probe and torment her with in the cellar. Then, when he felt satisfied, he would carry her off into the red room and place iratzes all over her body so that the pain would become numb and left as a constant reminder. After that was done, he would interrogate her about her feelings for Jace and try to seduce her to give into him. After continuously being shut down, he would get so frustrated he would use force to have her give into him. And he would make her stay awake and responsive the entire time. Every sickening touch, every kiss, every tear, she remembered. And then she would sob her heart out every night praying for death and that when it come to be swift and quick, for she could not take another moment with him in the cellar or the red room.

The first couple of days she'd built a firm exterior of refusal to giving into the torture, but that had crumbled now. All that was left was faith in Jace. And so, as her brother plucked her down onto the bed and began to unfasten his boots, she swallowed back her fear and closed her eyes to picture her Jace. Tousled blonde hair, golden eyes, lean muscle over scars, every perfect detail precisely carved into her mind. So brilliantly breathtakingly beautiful that it almost outshined the fact of where she was and who she was with.

That is…until she felt the numbing sensation of the iratzes being placed throughout her body and her brother whispering in her ear,

"Let's get started shall we?"

Looks like Sebastian/Jonathon is done playing nice! ;) ;) ;)

Feel free to review and let me know if this should continue!